Drama: The Persistent Weed Pt 2

This is a continuation of my last post.

I stopped writing last night because I have a race next weekend. This morning’s run was fantastic, and the endorphin rush and energy lasted me till 5pm. I’ve been so reticent about running in the morning in winter because the sun won’t have risen yet, and it’s usually windy/rainy/crappy. However, with the big race so close, I got up and ran a new personal best, which I’m quite happy about. 10.5km in 57 minutes = 5:25 min/km!!

The view at the end of a new PB run :D

The view at the end of a new PB run ūüėÄ

Anyway, my life is currently overrun with drama. Let’s talk about uni, which has once again become a large part of my life.

Teaching hospitals are hotbeds of politicking and drama.

1. My year is the first cohort of post-graduate students for this course. They gave us fanciful labels, like “pioneers” and “scouts.” Oh please, you mean “guinea pigs.”

I wish I’d gotten a photo of what MF from my study group wrote on the whiteboard one session:

Welcome to Journal Club. In your first year of uni, can you say that you’ve killed/sued/brought on a nervous breakdown on your professors?

Or something like that.

2. They have tried to treat us like the usual 17-18 year old undergraduates, who are basically children. When Nurse G tried to reprimand us, we immediately gave feedback to our class representatives, who got the staff to speak to her and say, “You can’t do that.” She got the message.

3. They are trying to dictate new clinic coat standards. P has told me there is no evidence for cross infection control, or research on the incidence of proven patient/patient transfer in our setting. But they remain adamant that we must meet their new requirements, despite the fact that students for the past 10 years have had short clinic coats, and neither they nor their patients are on anti-retrovirals. Fucking saliva splatter studies.

4. The replacement for the course coordinator who had a breakdown is a real piece of work. Why?

  • I can understand that you want our undivided attention, but it’s¬†unbelievably disrespectful¬†to snap your fingers at us.¬†Our cohort has students of a comparable age, qualifications, and life experience. Your attempt to avoid conflict by a dictatorial attitude is not appreciated.
  • We will be your future colleagues. Who the hell do you think you are to tell us to lower our screens because we don’t need to take notes?
  • I don’t want to hear your life story, about how you went to the best university in America, and “dated your professor on the quiet” and got married. I don’t care that your son has final high school exams, or about¬†your “amazing” daughter who’s never dealt with death before, but has taken on all the cooking for her friend’s mother’s funeral. Shut up. If you absolutely must, finish your lecture on the history of the topic, and then talk through actual important, clinically relevant topics, you twit! Jesus fucking Christ.

5. I’m not encouraged to excel with my practical work. Last week, I was ahead of everyone else for one activity, standing around, waiting for 45 minutes to get something checked in 30 seconds so I could proceed to the next step. The tutor asked me why I was rushing and the coordinator told me to hide my frustration.

But you know what? I get it. This is the way things are. I just need to keep my head down, use my time more effectively instead of standing around, get through, and then leave this crap drama behind. Water off a duck’s back. It’s not worth the emotional energy. I have more important things to worry about. Like study.

Today, I was ahead again. We were allocated 6 hours for our practical work. I finished in 3 and a bit. People started asking me to critique their work, so I did it a bit. And then more and more people asked. I felt like such a twat. I mean, I learned it at the same time as you and I’m ahead, but I’m not more experienced or anything. And here I am, playing tutor. Oh well, they asked for my feedback. It was better than twiddling my thumbs.

I have seriously considered transferring back home for the course. We’ll cross that bridge when it comes time.

There may be a part 3, on my clinic partner, and a small group of girls who have distinguished themselves in our cohort as bitches.

Respect, Regrets, Resolutions

Community is important. We need people. We can’t do it alone. When I was younger, I was willing to listen to anyone but my parents. But I find that as I get older, I’m much more ready to listen to what they have to say. I recognise the value in their experience. I had dinner with Dad tonight, just the two of us. It was nice. I asked him things. Things like,

  • Why did choose to immigrate to North America?
  • Do you ever wonder what it would’ve been like if you’d chosen Australia or Singapore or the UK like your friends?
  • How did you decide what you wanted to do with your life?

All fairly big life questions. The world is a big place and there’s an awful lot of paths you could take. I struggle to know, “Which one is the best one?” One of my biggest faults is that I can be quite¬†obsessive. This translates to¬†hours thinking over what might have been, rather than going out and doing. I’ve spent hours wondering what life would be like if I had questioned authority more when I was growing up, or if I had more gumption in high school, or had clearer goals of what I wanted out of my first degree.¬†Sometimes, I try to compensate by acting on gut-feeling and without thought. This isn’t much better.

John Greenleaf Whittier wrote a poem about a judge and a maid who share a moment, but do not pursue that feeling. They each go on to live their lives the way society expects them to, with regret.

God pity them both! and pity us all,

Who vainly the dreams of youth recall.

For of all the sad words of tongue or pen,

The saddest are these: “It might have been!”

This is hardly the only quote on regret. (Kurt Vonnegut has one that is very similar.) I used to want to be original, or at least, be doing things the right way. Even in kindergarten, I can distinctly recall colouring assignments where much of it was brown and green. Why? Because wood is brown and grass is green. I have since taken a much more pragmatic point of view on assignments and life.

Get it done. No one is original. Everyone makes mistakes, but if you’re smart, you’ll learn from them.

Anyway, just some thoughts that have been rattling around.

P is away at a conference in Melbourne. It looks like a perfectly wonderful time. I’ve been bored witless for a week over this midsemester break. Some resolutions from this week of boredom and thinking:

  1. Continue New Years Resolution to do morning runs at least 3 times each week. This month has been excellent, with nearly one every single day. 
  2. Make a 5 year plan with specific, measurable, accurate, realistic and timely goals along the way. And some sort of rewards. like shopping.
  3. Spend at least 20 minutes each morning thinking about what I want to achieve for that day.
  4. No distractionary reading. Especially not fanfiction as this feeds daydreaming. (embarrassing!!) Speaking of which, no more daydreaming. If I absolutely must, then I will have a good idea from it that I can apply. And not for more than 15 minutes.
  5. At least 30 minutes before bed, start winding down. To exercise good sleep hygiene, no more bringing the Macbook or iPhone to bed. Find something to think about before bed. Other than what I need to do tomorrow. Because that’s what P does and I swear I can¬†hear¬†the gears in P’s brain ticking as I’m trying to fall asleep. Possibly reflections on the day.

Good plan. Now to do it. I wonder if this is the start of self-actualization.

Post Viva

I went over to P’s after steak night at Botanica’s with Zach, Sarah, Jesse, Ted, and Soph. After some cuddles, some fun, and then more cuddles, P asked me what my favourite colour was. It’s been a couple times where I’ve been asked to confirm my birthday date. It’s nice, having someone ask things, knowing it’s for my birthday present. I just wish I could orgasm when we have sex.

I’m not 100% sure I passed viva. Despite getting the problems, it could’ve gone so poorly. Particularly section 1. And the brunette with the nose was scrawling heaps in Section 3. And a bit during my section 4 roleplay. Oh fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck.
I so very much want an acceptance to Sydney dental. Or UWA. I would be willing to compromise much to get it. I don’t care what they say, it’d be worth it. Consequentialism, the ends justifying the means, it’s worth it. Who gives a fuck about the rest?